


Imagination

by LucyLegacies



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyLegacies/pseuds/LucyLegacies
Summary: A first kiss.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	Imagination

**Author's Note:**

> Something sweet.

Hope liked these mornings the most. The sky was grey in a non-inviting way. People liked clear blue skies, perfectly shaped white clouds and star-filled nights. Hope loved the grey skies so much because of the promise of change they offered. You never knew if it would rain or a sun would peek through the clouds. Or if a rainbow would happen.

Hope glanced at the person laying on the grass with her. They were both comfortably set between tree roots and each other. Hope’s head was on Lizzie’s stomach and Lizzie’s hand was distractedly playing with Hope’s hair. They were sharing ear phones and Hope smiled when the current song changed to a more upbeat one and Lizzie’s eyes shifted away from the book for just a second to look at the phone in Hope’s hands. Hope kept watching her; the way her breath quickened as she started to read an exciting part in the book she was holding. How her wide eyes moved fast over the page, stopping for a moment to read back something and then going back to fast-read. Hope loved that expression; it usually lead to,

“Oh no!” Lizzie gasped making Hope chuckle lightly. Lizzie didn’t look at Hope but Hope knew by the way her features softened and she bit her lip that she had heard Hope. Hope smiled and looked back at the sky knowing Lizzie would re-read whatever caused her that surprise. They had spent a few more relaxed minutes laying there when the first droplet fell on Hope’s cheek. She must have closed her eyes at some point because she opened them now and frowned at the sky. Then another drop fell on her lips and another one on her head. She looked at Lizzie.

"We better go in,” she said and Lizzie nodded. They stood up then and started to pick up the things they had taken there for a picnic. The basket, now filled with half-eaten food, the blanket they were laying on and their shoes. They started to make their way to the cottage then. Hope holding the basket in a hand and Lizzie’s hand in the other. The were halfway there when the skies decided to pour rain on them rather than little droplets. They started to run, Hope laughing when Lizzie slipped and fell in a small puddle. She glared at Hope.

“Can you help me or will you keep laughing?” She said frowning at her book, wet and muddied after falling in the dirt water. Hope reached for her and when Lizzie placed her hand on Hope’s, Hope forgot about the rain. The only thing she could see was Lizzie’s blue eyes and the way her breath caught when she noticed Hope staring at her lips. “You’re looking at me like that again.” She whispered when Hope helped her up but didn’t let her go.

“Like what?” Hope whispered back wondering if Lizzie had heard over the noise of the rain and the thunder.

“Like you want to kiss me.” Lizzie said, a nervous laugh escaping her and she looked away. Hope’s breath caught. She was thinking about kissing Lizzie, of course. She had been thinking about kissing Lizzie for so long now that she had actually started to wonder if she should talk to someone about it. But they were best friends. They’ve been best friends for years. They’ve dated people and cried on each other’s laps after they broke up. They’ve slept together without it being more than friends waking up side by side. They’ve gone to family dinners and weddings together. To trips and parties. They never kissed.

Not when they were thirteen and they expressed to each other their doubts about how it would be like to kiss for the first time. Even if a fleeting thought had crossed Hope’s mind then that maybe they should try it out together. They hadn’t.

Not when they were seventeen and Hope kissed a girl for the first time and in the back of her mind she wasn’t sure why it didn’t feel quite like it was supposed to. She remember thinking that it hadn’t been the right person. It wasn’t the right person.

Not when they were nineteen and they rented an apartment together. When they were celebrating and they drank just a little more than they should and they went to the rooftop and slow danced to some song that was playing and filling the air with promises. Hope thought about kissing her then. She would have kissed her then but just as she closed her eyes and held Lizzie’s neck, the fireworks snapped them out of their trance and they pulled away, dizzy and trying to understand what had just happened. “ _Happy New Year,”_ Lizzie said, the first one to compose herself. Hope opened her mouth but nothing came out of it and she nodded distractedly.

Not when they were twenty-two at Lizzie’s sister’s engagement party when Hope almost fainted at the sight of Lizzie descending the stairs in the prettiest dress Hope had ever seen. Or maybe the dress just looked beautiful because Lizzie was wearing it. The fairy lights made the way Lizzie looked at her intimate even if it was in front of a hundred people. Hope did not kiss her then even if they danced the night away and stumbled laughing into their apartment when the first lights of the next day were breaking on the sky. Hope hadn’t kissed her when they shared the bed, their dresses discarded on the floor beside it. Hope did not kiss her when their skins touched and Lizzie’s head rested on Hope’s chest.

They didn’t kiss when Lizzie brought her here to spend a whole month alone. In the middle of nowhere. A field of wild flowers on their left and a lake on their right. They were celebrating, Lizzie said. Hope didn’t know what but she hadn’t felt the need to ask when Lizzie asked her the question that always made Hope fall even more in love with her. The same question Lizzie was asking just now.

“Can I paint you a picture?” She said and Hope brushed away her wet hair from her face before nodding. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Not a single soul miles away from us. You close your eyes.” She started and Hope closed her eyes as she usually did when Lizzie started to play this little game of theirs. They've been doing it since they were little. Hope always liked drawing and she used to call herself an artist. Lizzie would roll her eyes and say that she could be an artist too. Hope told her once that artists should paint beautiful pictures and then Lizzie smirked at her as only a confident child could. _“I can paint you a picture,”_ she had said proceeding to tell Hope to close her eyes. Hope did and after listening to Lizzie, she opened her eyes startled. _“You can paint with watercolors and oil. I can paint with words.”_ Hope smiled at the memory and waited for Lizzie to continue. “You breathe in and smell lavender and rain.” _Lavender_? Hope breathes in and yes, she does smell lavender. That’s what the wild flowers field must be then, a lavender field. “You feel the rain trace your body and you imagine it to be my hands.” She said, even lower than before and Hope feels her own breath quickening. She tries to open her eyes but she’s locked in the picture; in that spell Lizzie casts when she asks if she can paint her a picture. “They trace your brows,” she continues and Hope’s hand automatically starts to do what Lizzie’s describing. “your cheeks and your lips.” When Hope’s hand touches her own lips, she feels the warm breath and imagines if Lizzie can feel it too. They’re very close and she should be able to feel every little change in Hope's body. Lizzie got closer then. Hope didn’t know how she knew; maybe a shift in the air or maybe something totally instinctive warning her; but she knew. “You feel my heart pounding against your chest and you wonder why is it beating as fast as yours.” And yes, Hope could feel Lizzie’s heart then. Their chests were touching now and Lizzie’s heart was indeed beating as fast as Hope’s. On the same beat, she realized a few seconds later. “You wonder why my breath is uneven and why I have to lock you into a dreamlike landscape in order to get words out. What words, you wonder.” Hope can’t handle this anymore. This longing, this promise of perfection. It’s too much. And Lizzie seems to notice because a moment later, her warm breath touches Hope’s lips and she says, “Can I paint you one more picture?” And Hope nods, their lips brushing, a feather-like touch. “I kiss you.”

And she does. She kisses Hope. Under the rain. Next to flowers and a lake. It tastes like the chocolate cake they ate. Lizzie’s hesitant hands touch Hope’s neck then making Hope’s whole body feel hypersensitive. She can feel every droplet of rain hitting her skin and she can feel the grass under her feet. She can feel the cold wind and the mixed smell of flowers, rain and Lizzie. But most of all, she can feel Lizzie. The way her fingers trace Hope’s features, her brows, her cheeks, her eyes. They way she breaks the kiss to touch Hope’s lips in awe. Hope looks her in the eyes then and they both smile.

“I think it’s time for me to paint you a picture.” Hope said and Lizzie knows what she means. She knew it years ago when Hope, still startled by Lizzie’s imagery, opened her sketch book and did it. She knew it now. Hope took her hand, their things forgotten on the grass, and led her to their cottage. When they entered it, Hope’s hands touched the hem of Lizzie’s sweater and she looked at her for permission. Lizzie nodded. Hope then breathed out and stripped Lizzie of her clothes, her hands touching reverently Lizzie’s skin. Lizzie looked at her then and Hope nodded. She could do the same. Hope closed her eyes when Lizzie’s fingers played with the sensitive skin of Hope’s stomach. Hope had always imagined how it would be like to touch and be touched by her but she knew it could be like this.

They stood there staring at each other for so long that Hope could have sworn years had passed. Then Hope took her hand and led her to the fireplace, their favorite place in the cottage. Hope wrapped Lizzie with a blanket and smiled when a furry little thing snuggled on Lizzie and Lizzie sighed contently. Hope picked up her sketch book and started.

She didn’t know how much time it took her to finish but Lizzie’s eyes didn’t left Hope. Hope felt herself burning slowly. Before showing Lizzie the result, she went through the other pages on her book. Hope sensed Lizzie following her gaze and smiling. Drawings, paintings and sketches Hope had made of the years. Hope’s first drawing of Lizzie’s imagination. Hope’s painting of that one time Lizzie painted her a picture of an old couple. Hope hadn’t understood till now that she had painted the two of them. She smiled shaking her head; she hadn’t noticed till now that all of Lizzie’s tales were them. Then she showed Lizzie one more drawing. One more tale to add to their collection.

Lizzie smiled when her fingers touched the two girls kissing at the center of the drawing. “Finally,” she said and Hope laughed.

“Finally.” She agreed knowing that it wouldn’t stop there; that she would still paint a lot of pictures. They both would. But right now—Hope took the book from Lizzie’s hand and stood up in front of her. She raised her hand, un unspoken invitation. One that Lizzie answered by following Hope upstairs—right now Hope would let their lips paint them a picture. The better one yet.


End file.
